


'cause i love the way you call me baby

by primrosee



Series: gay boyfriends being in love [1]
Category: Homestuck
Genre: Aftercare, Blindfolds, Bondage, Dom Dave, Dom Karkat, Dom/sub, Emotional Comfort, Emotional Sex, M/M, Polyamory, Praise, Praise Kink, Safewording, Self-Esteem Issues, Sub John, Xenobiology, hopefully i got em all, implied depression, leave me alone i love sub john okay, more like safecoloring?, nipple play (barely), tune in next time for "i can't write descriptive sex scenes"
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-11
Updated: 2017-07-11
Packaged: 2018-12-01 01:03:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,671
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11475345
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/primrosee/pseuds/primrosee
Summary: This is weird. This is weirder than weird. This is one of the weirdest things you’ve ever experienced in your entire life, and one time you saw meteors fall from the sky and destroy the little suburban neighborhood you’d grown up in.





	'cause i love the way you call me baby

**Author's Note:**

> i can't write anything but non-explicit emotional sex leave me be
> 
> title is from "the way i am" by ingrid michaelson

This is weird. This is weirder than weird. This is one of the weirdest things you’ve ever experienced in your entire life, and one time you saw meteors fall from the sky and destroy the little suburban neighborhood you’d grown up in. Your hands are bound behind your back, definitely Dave’s handiwork—you think they’re tied with the wrist wraps Dave uses during strifes with Dirk, but you can’t be entirely certain, since you’re blindfolded with the sequined pink scarf Roxy got you for your birthday. Spoiler alert: it wasn’t meant to be worn, if the way she grinned and winked at you after you unwrapped it was any indication.

There are two sets of hands on your body, then one, then two, then none. You have no idea what’s happening besides what’s on the inside of your eyelids, which is the color black with a slight hint of hot pink. “How are you doing?” someone whispers in your ear, gruffly, and you jump; more of an automatic response, than anything. It’s just Karkat.

“Fine,” you say with a gulp, totally not fine. He kisses your temple, ruffles your hair with his breath, and tells you, pointedly, that you’re a liar. You laugh, high and awkward, and respond by telling him that he’s right. “You’ve squeezed it out of me, Karkat. I am scared. Terrified. But only because I quiver beneath your godhood. You made the stars for me, and all.”

He scoffs. “Smartass.”

You nod, say, “Yeah.”

Then, you feel him shift away. You aren’t sure where he goes, but you can hear him walk somewhere else, since he basically stomps wherever he goes. There are a pair of hands on your thighs, kneading the skin there gently. It almost makes you want to close your legs, curl in on yourself. Cancel the sex. No sex today. None tomorrow. None ever. You’re not good enough for this, not good enough for your loving, caring boyfriends. You don’t deserve them. Someone kisses the inside of your knee. “I love you,” they mumble into it. Dave.

It takes a lot of convincing for you not to start crying, totally on your own accord. You know neither Dave or Karkat would mind, but if they heard you sniffling, they’d shut this whole thing down immediately—and you don’t want that. You know they enjoy this. What “this” is, you aren’t entirely sure, yet. But you know they enjoy it, so you don’t want them to shut the whole thing down just because you’re an over-emotional kid.

Something pops. A cap? Probably a cap. Unexpectedly, cold fingers descend upon you. You arch into the touch. No claws, so you can only assume that it’s Dave. “Calm down,” he says softly, kissing your shoulder blade. “You’re such a good boy, John. Such a good boy for us.”

And there go the waterworks. Dammit, you promised yourself you wouldn’t do this. As soon as the first sniffle comes out of you, there are fingers on the ties, the scarf, but you push them—both?—away. “I’m fine. Jus’ emotional. Keep going.”

“You better not be lying, fuckwit,” Karkat. You sniffle again, followed up by a giggle. “Keep going, Strider. He’s fine.”

You can’t see, but you’d bet Dave has that _look_ on his face. The look of total apprehension, like he’s afraid if he goes any further you will literally keel over and die. The fingers return again, but they aren’t as cold this time, and they’re down south a bit. When the first one slips in, you breathe out raggedly, back arching upward, hips pushing downward— _hard._ A hand slips into yours, rough and leathery. That’s Karkat, for sure. “You’re alright, John. Come on, untense. We can’t do anything if you’re coiled up like a string, or whatever that stupid metal human thing you push down stairs is.”

“A slinky?” Dave suggests. You laugh and untense, giving him a moment to add another finger to the mix. He curls them—you shout involuntarily, squirming. Karkat is there immediately, shooshing you at patting your face. He kisses you with surprising gentleness, despite having teeth sharp enough to cut down to your bone. A third finger—you start crying. Not necessarily because you’re in pain, but because you’re overwhelmed. Nothing new.

Dave kisses the inside of your knee again, tightening his grip on your ankle with his free hand. You breathe, slowly. You’re the Heir of Breath, remember? Breathing is your thing. It shouldn’t be so hard to do such a simple thing, especially when you’re the Heir of it. You basically own breath. You should be able to breathe easy, but you can’t. Your breaths come out in short bursts, and Karkat soothes his hand over your chest, tweaking one of your nipples along the way. You all-out _screech_ , urging him to do it again. He does. “I love how sensitive you are,” he whispers in your ear, rolling the nub between his claws. It’s painful—in a good way, of course. “You’re so good, John—so good for us.”

You are dying. Officially. “I’m ready,” you creak out. You sound like you have bronchitis, what the hell? Dave says, “yeah,” and probably nods, but you still have the blindfold on, which is an accomplishment all in itself. He sinks into you cautiously, like he’s afraid you’ll break. “I’m not a porcelain doll.”

“Stop sassing me,” he says. “I’m concentrating.”

You laugh, which subsequently makes you untense, which makes Dave’s pushing a little easier, a little more insistent. “Can you take us both?” Karkat whispers against your temple, and you nod, frantically.

“Please, please, please,” you beg, itching to move your hands. You dig your fingernails into your palms to stop yourself from breaking out of the bonds, even though you don’t think you could even if you tried. “Please Karkat, please please please, I need you.”

“He’s gettin’ there, don’t rush a horny man, John,” Dave says. You laugh again, and Karkat takes that moment to slip into you alongside Dave. It hurts a lot less when he enters you, mainly because his bulge—get this—can stretch out and become thinner. He does this until you’re pushing against them both, begging, pleading, for some kind of movement. They oblige you. Dave’s hands are in yours, and Karkat’s are on your thighs. It’s too much, too intense, and you find yourself shouting, “Red! Red, red, red, oh _god_ red!”

It’s barely a second before the scarf is untied from around your eyes, the ties from your wrists, and you shoot up like a snake that was about to attack, wrapping your arms around Dave’s neck and pulling him close to you, holding his head to your chest, hands in his hair. Karkat makes the noise he makes when he’s feeling left out, and you reach for him, blindly. They move in and out of you in an odd one-two motion that’s strangely satisfying, hitting the spot that makes you see stars on alternating thrusts. You scream in pleasure, back arching upward, hips pressed to the bed. You’re on the brink, but you’re still waiting for the command.

“Go ahead,” Dave whispers. “You’re allowed.”

And he doesn’t even have to say what you’re allowed to do for you to finish, back arching so high that you’d think it would be painful, even though it isn’t. Dave follows you almost immediately, Karkat following not far behind. You all lie there for a moment, completely still. The only noise in the room is their steady breathing and your rapid, panicked breathing. Dave pulls out. Karkat follows him. That weird, frothy pink color leaks out of you and onto the—thankfully—plastic-covered sheets. Dave leaves, probably to get you a change of clothes and a rag. Karkat stays with you, holding you to his chest.

Your boyfriends are giants. You swear. Karkat is 6’5 and super buff, and Dave is 6’3 and pretty thin, but also pretty sturdy. You, on the other hand, are only 4’9. You know you’re strong, but it’s hard to tell with how chubby you are. Dave comes back and helps you out of the bed while Karkat peels the plastic wrap off of the sheets and throws it into the trash. Dave wipes you down with the rag, and then he helps you pull on a shirt (his) and a pair of boxers (Karkat’s).

Then, he lays you down on the bed and pulls the covers over you. Him and Karkat leave the room again, probably to clean up and get changed. When they finally come back, you’re half-asleep. Dave crawls into the bed on your right side, Karkat on the left. They both wrap their arms around you, and you dig your head into Dave’s chest while Karkat presses his lips to the back of your skull. “Did you have fun, princess?” Dave asks, a hint of sarcasm in his voice.

“Don’t be an ass,” you mumble tiredly. “I know it’s hard for you, since you’re so proficient in assery, but now is not the time. I had plenty of fun. Let me sleep.”

“Yeah, Dave, stop being an ass,” Karkat follows up with. You giggle. He’s probably smiling, and you wish you could see it, but you’re already facing Dave and you don’t plan on changing that. It’s too much work, and you’re way too sore. “Goodnight, John.”

“Yeah.”

“I love you,” Dave says.

“I love you,” Karkat repeats.

You nod sleepily, pretty much feeling the heat of the glare they’re giving one another. “I love you doofuses, too.”

You fall asleep in their arms. Home.

(When you wake up, Karkat is in the shower. Dave has pancakes for you. He tells you that it’s nine in the morning and that you’ve been sleeping since six pm last night, and you shove your palm against his face and eat the pancakes. He kisses your head and tells you that he loves you. You nod and agree with a mouth full of pancakes.)

**Author's Note:**

> my headcanons REAL QUICK  
> dave: rlly tan, 6'3, thin as heck but actually really muscled and toned. top/dom but kinda laid back about it and also v e r y worried for his partner  
> karkat: very buff, 6'5, he big and threatening. top/dom who's really aggressive but also really comforting  
> john: so smol. 4'9, pale, and really chubby. bottom/sub but he's rlly sassy BUT ALSO vvv emotional
> 
> they're not common headcanons but YAH they're mine just so you know throughout this series
> 
> i honestly hate davekat but i love johndavekat?? i'm a lil weird


End file.
